The Moon-Wife and her Wolf-Husband
by AvaRosier
Summary: In a village amongst the hills, which served as a beacon for travelers, there stood an empty house on an empty street. By a bare window, a young woman in a pale green dress with red hair waited for a wolf to marry her. (Based off of 'Deathless' by Catherynne M. Valente)


based on "Deathless" by Catherynne M. Valente. I paraphrased certain sections and borrowed certain concepts from the novel. This is an AU.

Dedicated to lowlifetheory and gidget_84/theoriginalfangbanger

In a village amongst the hills, which served as a beacon for travelers, there stood an empty house on an empty street. By a bare window, a young woman in a pale green dress with red hair waited for a wolf to marry her.

Two years before, she had watched as a large, sure-footed wolf with golden eyes emerged from the treeline behind her home and in a blink, transformed into a dark-haired and dark-eyed man with a kind smile. "_I am Scott McCall, and I've come to marry you_," he had said to Allison Argent when she had opened the door on his second knock.

Last year, it had been a smaller, shaggy wolf with warm amber eyes that leaped confidently out of the woods and melted into the shape of a curvaceous woman with a smirk. She hadn't bothered to knock on her Chosen's door, instead sauntering in. Vernon Milton Boyd IV's mother had told the villagers later that the woman had stopped in front of the breakfast table and declared, "_I am Erica Reyes, come away with me._"

It was as it had always been, that every year a Visitor from a far-away land would appear in the village, come to take one of their people as mate. And every year, the Visitor would be heralded by a sign left in the village square: bright violet petals of the monkshood flowers that grew in a perimeter around the town, wrapped in a cloth and secured with a length of twine. Always one would appear before the Milk Moon, when the flowers were in full bloom and abundant.

This year, the sign appears before the Worm Moon, which falls upon the day of her birth. Lydia Martin knows with a bone deep certainty that she will be selected this year. She was as certain of her fate as she was the cycles of the moon.

She is packed and ready to go long before the knock comes on the door.

As she waits, Lydia examines her childhood as if it were a butterfly pinned to a red velvet board. She analyses it like one of her favourite mathematical equations.

She determines as a given that the world is ordered in such a way that wolves could be expected to turn into husbands or wives at a moment's notice, and nobody in the village would comment on it at all. Therefore, Lydia could conclude that one of two things are happening here: one, that everyone already knows this, and it is only unusual to her. Or two, that she is the only person to see it happen, and no one in the village knows the world is like this.

Neither Lydia's parents nor any of her friends ever mention the Visitors having been wolves, so she rejects the first conclusion. However, the second only leads to an unsettling hypothesis. The first resolution she comes up with is that maybe the Chosen in the village are not meant to see what their future husband or wife looks like, at least not before the Visitors make themselves more presentable. Perhaps the republic from which the Visitors come is a strange and frightening place full of not only wolves but every species of beast, waiting to emerge from the woods and into a wedding ring.

Lydia wonders if she will turn into something else when she marries a Visitor.

The second resolution, which she arrives at after doing her morning chores the next day is this: rules or no rules, it is far preferable to see the wolves than not to see them. It makes Lydia feel as if she has a secret, a very good secret, and that if she takes care of it, the secret would take care of her. She had caught the world naked, while others were missing vital information. This would make an unequal marriage, she thinks, and Lydia is determined that she would see her wolf-man before he transformed into a human being before she agrees to fall in love with him.

She would be clever. She would not let the wolf-man rule her or trick her. If the world was divided into knowing and not knowing, she would always choose to know.

She would see him without his skin on.

It is midmorning on the day of the Worm Moon, and Lydia has been watching from her window ever since she arose and then bathed and clothed herself. She had selected her best dress, a frock in mauve and carnation pink. But even she had to abandon the window in favour of food to break her fast. She is putting away her utensils when the loud, staccato knock comes at the door. She freezes, disappointed in her failure; then she closes the drawer and makes a solemn procession to the door. Her stomach is clenched with worry for what it means if her wolf-husband is on the other side of the door and she's missed him out. Another series of impatient knocks come pounding through the wooden door, shaking the frame.

Lydia breathes deeply and opens the door.

The man before her is tall, raven tressed and possesses eyes pale green as lichen moss. His features are sharp and he does not smile at her nor bow to her. Lydia has a sinking feeling that she is already at a disadvantage in her marriage. Her husband is cloaked in black and gray, and he accords her but a cursory examination before he nods.

"I am Derek, son of the Alpha of the Hale pack. You will come with me."

Lydia nods dumbly in agreement, moving aside so that he might sweep inside her home. _It is no longer your home_, she reminds herself. Her possessions are fairly plentiful- Lydia was regularly spoiled in place of parental affection and she enjoyed her nice things. She had several scholarly tomes in her trousseau. She hopes her husband has a carriage waiting. She should hate to have to walk all the way to his country.

Derek stalks towards the pile of bags and her clothing case, and his eyebrows knit closer together. "Do you jest? We have no need for half these fripperies. Choose what you will leave behind, now," Derek all but growls at her. Lydia simply lifts her chin stubbornly up at him, and remembers that she has a voice.

"No."

Boldened by her defiance, she continues, "you are taking me away from my home. These are my things, and I would have you make me happy by bringing them with us."

_Do you want ours to be a happy marriage?_

"So be it," he bites out finally. Before he can bend down to lift her bags, Lydia stops him with a hand on his arm. He feels warm and strong under her touch. Because of the way she is standing off to his side, Derek has to turn his head and his body to the side to peer down at her questioningly. Her head doesn't even reach his shoulder, but the thought thrills Lydia exceedingly.

"I want to see you without your skin on," she whispers with a persuasive smile. "If we are to be equal, I want to see your wolf, like I did the others."

His face is slack with shock and the next thing she knows, his hands are curled around her arms and his breath is right up against hers. "What did you say? You've seen us transform?" He gives her a small shake. Frightened, but mostly angry, Lydia jerks her body from his grip. "Unhand me right this minute!"

He hesitates a moment, but complies when he realizes he might be hurting her.

"And yes, I have seen your people. They came out of the woods beyond my house. I have seen two wolves become man and woman. I knew you were coming for me this year, so I was going to be ready. But you came to the door before I had returned to my window."

Derek closes his eyes and sighs in consternation, "_Those idiots_."

Of her, he deamands, "Have you told anyone?"

"Nay, if not a soul in the village had said a single word about wolves becoming husbands, then they must not have known. But I liked knowing, I _need_ to know what you look like without your skin on," she insists.

He shakes his head, "Not now, you'll see it when we are in my country."

Now it's Lydia's turn to shake her head and step away. "If you are son to a leader, then your marriage must reflect well on the family. Our trust is much too fragile now to survive the journey. No. If I am to be your wife, I must be accorded an equal respect. Our peace and happiness will depend on it. Show me, and I will trust you, and we can leave straight a way."

She keeps her gaze locked with his to demonstrate how serious she is.

"Straightaway, no protests?"

She accords him a single nod, and Derek sighs before closing his eyes once again, this time to concentrate. His form twists and blurs, oscillating too fast for her human eyes to follow. And then he stands before her on all-fours, a huge grey wolf with a single patch of white fur on his side, over his ribs. His bright blue eyes track her reaction, testing her.

She kneels before the wolf, who watches her with wary eyes. Drawn to the dark grey fur, she brushes a gentle hand through it. Her words are a soft whisper, but she knows Derek will understand her.

"My parents do not love me, they love the facsimile of the perfect daughter. I have never been loved. I am cold and clever. There, now you have seen me without my skin on, too. We are married now."

With that, she rises up onto her feet and pulls her dark navy cloak around her shoulders. When she turns back, Derek is a man again and he has picked up her bags for her. She thinks this is a start.


End file.
